


Frame of Mind

by serenlty



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, attempted suicide, mentions of suicide/self harm, sort of inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenlty/pseuds/serenlty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only he'd helped Midori find a better frame of mind.  Then, none of this mess would have happened.  At least, that's what Chiaki tells himself.</p><p>based loosely on frame of mind by tristam and braken</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frame of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> ummmm hi i've never written these two before but i hope this is ok  
> i don't know why i have the ideas i do but i do and here they are
> 
> based loosely on frame of mind by tristam and braken  
> https://youtu.be/SgzSMSZ3b6Q

Midori hurts Chiaki.

No, not in the physical sense. It’s a mental thing, an emotional burden that Chiaki feels. He relates so much to the first year, it’s scary-not that Midori would know. He’d never know that Chiaki, obnoxiously loud Chiaki Morisawa, was once quiet and withdrawn and depressed, just like he was. He’d heard the rumors, he’d been told that Chiaki was there for him, by many others and Chiaki himself, but he still didn’t believe those words.

Chiaki knew this. He wasn’t going to say anything, however-he knew he was much too loud for Midori’s taste, and didn’t want to drive the younger boy off the cliff by being too overbearing. He kept it to daily reminders, just trying to show Midori how much he meant- not only to the group, Chiaki knew that his love for Midori was something much more personal than just the bond shared by teammates. At least, he didn’t lay awake at night, thinking about conversations that he’d never have with the other three Ryusei.

It was another one of those nights, he knew. Chiaki was...worried, to put it lightly. He knew from his own experience that any emotion, especially the type of depression Midori seemed to shoulder, could fluctuate. Especially with the stupidly irritating hormones of being a teenager, it didn’t take much to switch someone from smiles and sunshine to talking nonstop about how they wanted to die.

Chiaki never knew how seriously to take Midori. There was something wrong, and he knew that-all of the hours and hours he’d poured into trying to understand the boy had told him that. Yet, he was almost certain Midori wasn’t trying to kill himself, or hurting himself, at the very least. Maybe he should have pried more-as the leader of Ryuseitai, it was his duty to make sure none of the other members were in danger, whether it be from someone else or themselves.

He’s staring at the ceiling, Midori’s odd behavior from that day playing over and over in his head. He wasn’t just quiet, he was silent-Chiaki didn’t hear a single one of his usual, depressed comments. Chiaki had approached him after practice, trying to get him to talk.

“I’m always here for you. A hero never leaves his comrades behind!” He’d told Midori. “You mean so much, don’t ever forget that, Takamine. Even if everyone else abandons you, you’ll always have me. Always.” Midori had dismissed him with a small nod, turning to leave before Chiaki could even process. His eyes seemed almost dead as he’d left, no sign of emotion in them whatsoever.

And of course, as he’s wrapped up in all of these thoughts, Chiaki’s phone rings. Shifting enough in his bed to grab the phone from the table next to it, he’s mildly surprised to see that the caller is ‘Takamine-Home’. Surely, everyone in that house is sleeping right now. It’s nearly 2 am, after all.

“Chiaki Morisawa, speaking.” He tried to hide a poorly muted yawn with the back of his hand, waiting for a response.

“Sorry to disturb you, Morisawa, but is our son at your house? We can’t find him anywhere, and he seems to trust you a lot.” Chiaki sits straight up as Midori’s mother talks to him, her voice strained with anxiety. He can practically see her right now, pacing back and forth in front of Midoris’ room, as if a certain amount of steps will make her son reappear.

“He’s not here, I’m sorry.” Chiaki hung up, throwing himself out of bed. The cold air that greeted him was no surprise-he’d left the window open again, and it was the middle of January. Finding a jacket and an old pair of sneakers under his bed that definitely did not fit right, the brunette was out of his house in a minute flat. Obviously, he was going to look for Midori. If he had been worried before, then Chiaki had no idea what he was feeling right now.

Of course, mother nature had decided that tonight was a great night to snow as well. His feet were numb, soaked to the bone hardly twenty feet from his house, and shoving his hands in his pockets did little to keep them warm, either. The clouds were thinner in some places, allowing the moonlight to filter through, but for the most part, it was a pitch black night.

There was a small park in between Chiaki and Midori’s houses that Chiaki knew the latter went to when he was feeling particularly down. He wasn’t too sure why Midori would choose 2 am on a Tuesday morning to head to the park, but strong emotions can make people do some pretty crazy things, right?

After a few more minutes of running, skidding, and sliding across the frozen and icy ground, Chiaki reached the park’s entrance. There were small lights scattered around and they were still on, providing some light. Nonetheless, Chiaki found himself reaching for his phone, to turn on the flashlight on it. Around him, the snow glistened in the bright light, and Chiaki nearly stopped, thinking of how much he’d always wanted to drag Midori out into the snow until they were both completely numb.

‘Now’s not the time,’ he reminds himself.

Chiaki’s exhausted brain works on autopilot, heading straight for the bench where he frequently finds Midori on the days when the boy had been particularly down. On certain occasions, Midori would even call Chiaki, asking his senior to meet him at the park. He’d never tell anyone, of course, but that secretly made Chiaki happier than anything else on this Earth ever could.

After wandering towards the bench, Chiaki saw a familiar figure. It was their usual spot, next to a light post that shone even more with the snow that was rapidly falling around it. Chiaki’s pace began to increase, heading towards the bench and trying not to fall in the snow.

“Takamine!” He raised his voice, approaching the bench. Midori didn’t respond. A little confused, Chiaki tried again. Midori had only fallen asleep on him once, on that bench, but he hadn’t been very hard to wake up. It was so easy, in fact, that Chiaki had secretly wondered if Midori had even been sleeping in the first place. As his lips closed around the last syllable of Midori’s name, however, Chiaki noticed something that made his heart nearly stop.

Sleeping people...they breath, right? It was frigid out, and Chiaki could easily see his own breath in the air. Why was it then, that he couldn’t see any coming from Midori, who was sitting next to the bench. He sure did look like he was sleeping-his eyes were closed, his face bearing a peaceful expression that Chiaki loved, but almost never saw.

Breaking into a full sprint, Chiaki all but threw himself onto the bench next to Midori, his phone falling into the snow with a barely audible thud. The thin layer of snow that had formed over Midori’s clothes told Chiaki that his junior had definitely been here for a period of time-how had he not frozen. His lips did look a little blue, Chiaki noted.

Knowing that his voice wasn’t doing enough to make Midori wake up, Chiaki settled for the next best thing-grabbing the younger boy’s shoulders and shaking them, harshly. Even then, he didn’t respond. His heartbeat quickening, Chiaki shook Midori’s shoulders even harder, and there was a sudden click as something landed against his knee, next to Midori’s right hand. Moving one cold hand down, Chiaki found something there- a small, plastic bottle. A medicine bottle, to be exact. 

Standing up, Chiaki’s heart went from a mile a minute to nearly stopping, his brain doing the exact opposite so quickly that it made him feel sick. Blindly, he opened the bottle, only to confirm his fear- the bottle was completely empty, the contents completely drained. Fumbling in the snow to find his phone and nearly blinding himself with its flashlight, which was still on, Chiaki slumped on the bench next to Midori’s lifeless form, his hand squeezing the bottle as if his life, Midori’s life, depended on it.

The hand on the bottle shifted to Midori’s neck, searching blindly for the vein. Midori wasn’t dead, he didn’t just take a bunch of pill and kill himself, he wasn’t that depressed, surely he would have said something, his parents said that he trusted Chiaki, right? Feeling too many emotions at once, Chiaki almost didn’t notice when the operator on the other side of the phone line picked up.

After a 911 call Chiaki never wanted to make, never thought he’d have to make, he began calling Midori’s parents. Just as he was wondering the best way to tell someone that their son was dead on a park bench, Chiaki felt something beneath his nearly frozen hands that was the biggest relief he’d ever felt-a heartbeat. Holding his breath and biting his lip, Chiaki sat and waited. A couple seconds later, the felt another, faint pulse beneath his fingertips. So, Midori wasn’t dead yet. He wasn’t breathing, and he wasn’t responding, but at least his heart was beating, sort of.

“I-I found him. Come to the park, right now.” After the third ring, one of Chiaki’s parents had picked up, but Chiaki hadn’t waited for them to speak before delivering his line and hanging up. Finally letting himself give in, Chiaki did something he’d promised himself to never do, ever again-he let himself cry.

That was what the police and Midori’s parents found when they arrived in the park not too much later, approaching the scene with an urgency that made Chiaki all to uneasy. He was sitting there, clinging to the probably dead body of the person he’d somehow fallen in love with (which he’d finally admitted to himself), and bawling his eyes out at the thought of leaving them behind forever.

Somehow, Chiaki convinced the paramedics to let him ride in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital, provided he didn’t cause any trouble. Initially, the brunette was a little surprised, but he realized that the police probably took pity on him-a teenager clinging to a boy in a coma, shivering and crying in snow-covered clothes with an empty pill bottle next to one of his hands.

The ride there was silent, except for the slow beep of the machinery in the ambulance, the EMT’s talking to each other, and the quiet hum of the ambulance’s engine. It was weird to see Midori hooked up to all of the equipment in the vehicle, like he was some sort of bionic creature that needed to be refueled. Chiaki had to tear his eyes away from the scene-even though he wanted to look, to see if Midori’s eyes would open, he couldn’t stand the sight of someone he cared for so much in a breathing mask and tied up to too many machines for his tired head to count.

“Are you his friend?” One of the EMT’s had turned to look at Chiaki as the ambulance sped down the highway. Chiaki could only nod, not trusting his voice to make any sound at all. The EMT placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, leaning down a bit further so that he could look Chiaki in the eye.

“I’m sorry to tell you, but he might not make it. We’re doing everything we can, and we will continue to, but this boy here is almost completely dead. If we’d been a minute or two later, he would already be gone.” Chiaki nodded, a hand coming up to rub at his eyes. If only he’d been more forceful, tried harder to talk to Chiaki, supported him more. He tried to look at the fact that he’d been able to call medical staff in time to potentially save Midori, but Chiaki was someone who always wanted to be a hero. Heroes didn’t let their friends, their loves, die.

As the ambulance approached the hospital, Chiaki’s eyes fell on the car following the ambulance. It was Midori’s parents, of course, the only other people on the deserted highways. He could only imagine the pain they were feeling right now-this was their son, after all-and it made Chiaki feel an even bigger sense guilt, that he hadn’t been able to do something, do anything, to prevent this whole mess from happening.

As a few paramedics rolled Midori into the hospital building, Chiaki knew he was crying again. He was beginning to grow numb to the feeling, but the sensation was coming back, knowing that this could very well be the last time he ever sees Midori alive. If his current condition can even be called that. One of the other paramedics, the one who had talked to Chiaki in the ambulance, stopped Chiaki and Midori’s parents when they entered the warmth of the hospital building. He told the parents the same thing he’d told Chiaki, before turning to look at Chiaki.

“Thank you, kid. I know this isn’t easy, but you did everything you could.” Chiaki nodded, watching the paramedic’s back disappear back out into the cold January air. He wanted to run, anywhere, somewhere, to Midori’s side, back home, and to forget. He wanted to wake up and have all of this be some really shitty, shitty dream, to wake up and have another day where he gets to see Midori. Vaguely, he knew that Midori’s parents offered to drive him home, and he accepted. He must have, because how else would he have stumbled into his house, past his worried family, and straight to his room?

When he gets to school the next morning, word hasn’t gotten out about Midori. It was for the better, Chiaki knew, because this way he might actually be able to be in denial. Surely, that wasn’t healthy, but it was the only thing keeping him from going crazy too.

Chiaki had been like Midori. But through the efforts of people around him, he’d became the extroverted person that everyone knew. However, this wasn’t the case for Midori. Chiaki was sure he knew that. He knew, somewhere deep down inside of him, that just a little socialization wasn’t going to be enough to help fix Midori.

Ryuseitai practice is the most painful thing he’s ever done. When he gets there, ten minutes later after finding a spot to cry his eyes ot in once again, everyone immediately jumps on him with the loaded question of ‘Where’s Midori?’ Again, Chiaki is faced with the overwhelming urge to run-to run, and never look back, to hide somewhere until he can fix his broken mind and then return to society. Maybe, by then, Midori will be back.

Somehow, Chiaki keeps his composure. Maybe it’s because he knows the second he lets a tear fall, it will only go downhill from there. Very quietly, and as calmly as he can, Chiaki does his best to explain what happened early that morning, and everything he knows so far. In his usual manner, Kanata suggests something that the group realized they need to do. It’s a unanimous, teary-eyed decision-they’re going to visit Midori.

The doctors have decided that Midori is ‘stable enough’ for the other four Ryusei to be let into his room. He’s still in the ICU, the name that makes Chiaki’s skin crawl, and he tries to ignore the definite crying coming from behind a door as he walks towards the room he’s been told is Midori’s. Inside, there are a number of doctors, who look towards the door in slight irritation when the quartet walks in. They have a spoken to not say anything, and to not touch, just to watch.

 

Except now, it’s been a year, and Chiaki’s sick of watching. One year since that night at the park. Nine months since he’s had any company in this room besides Midori’s lifeless body, and the occasional doctor. They try not to come in when Chiaki is there, as if they’re trying to respet his privacy. Chiaki doesn’t know what they think he has to hide when he’s sitting in a room with a near dead body, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to be banned from the hospital (even though he doubts a question like that would get him banned, he still doesn’t ask).

Most importantly, it’s been two months since Midori’s parents, the own people who raised him, stopped paying for the life support that was keeping their son afloat. In a fit of desperation and anger, Chiaki had somehow manage to become the one to bear that burden, now. Here he was, just getting by, and now he was paying for the life support of his best friend.

He was a freshmen in university now, at least he’d made it that far. In the past year, Chiaki had taken to basketball as his release from the world, a place to forget about everything except the other team’s star player and the squeak of shoes on the floor. Most of his college tuition was a scholarship, thank god, or he’d really have to say goodbye to Midori.

Chiaki’s not dumb, he know’s that Midori is getting worse. He’d been taken out of the ICU, but now he was back, hooked up to immense machines that controlled everything. The calm expression that Midori almost permanently wore seemed to taunt Chiaki, as if mocking the utter turmoil the older boy’s mind was in. 

It was driving him insane, the feeling of uselessness and helplessness that arose whenever he thought of Midori, lying helplessly in a hospital bed. So insane, that he’d almost ended it himself-his life, not Midori’s. He’d stood on the roof of the school’s dorm, pacing, contemplating, and finally made up his mind. The only thing that kept him from jumping was a tiny glimmer of hope that Midori would one day return. After all, what would happen if Midori came back, only to discover that Chiaki was gone Surely, he would be at least a little bit upset, right?

“It was going to be us. It was always going to be us.” He finds himself repeating the words, on the court, in class, in the goddamn shower, and most importantly, in the hospital room. One of the only things he finds solace in is that with the doctor’s gone, he can hold Chiaki’s hand, brush the messy strands of thinning light brown hair away from his beautiful face, and pretend that those sky blue eyes are staring back up at him again. He can imagine that Midori is here, his Midori, and he’ll finally be ready and able to say everything he’s always wanted to say.

It’s late one night when Chiaki receives a phone call. The phone ringing alone makes himself nervous- the only people who ever call him anymore are Midori’s parents, very rarely, and the hospital. Sure enough, it’s the hospital, and Chiaki has to take a very deep breath before he can even touch the phone. It’s one of the reasons he’s gotten seven jobs-having his own apartment is useful for situations like this. Even if he’s working himself to the bone, at least he can have the privacy he needs.

“Hello, is this a Morisawa Chiaki?”

“Yes, that’s me? Is there something wrong with Midori?” There’s a tense pause, before the person on the phone responds.

“We’re going to have to perform an emergency surgery.”

 

Chiaki goes through with the surgery, and shoulders the bill himself. It’s a hefty price tag, but what else can he do? The doctors say it might save Midori, and Chiaki has come way too far to not give this a try. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do, he doesn’t ask, but he pays the bill and that’s all that’s needed.

It doesn’t work.

Another month passes, and another emergency surgery. Chiaki’s in debt, badly, he knows he’s going to be kicked out of his fucking school if he can’t pay tuition, his rent, something, anything. He’s barely able to eat, even with an eight job on his plate, and running back home in the rain at 3am on a Monday morning with homework he hasn’t even started in his arms, he briefly wonders if this is what hell is like.

Chiaki sets an obnoxious pile of papers and textbooks down next to him, grabbing what’s probably the fifth energy drink of the day and downing it in no time. It hardly even works any more, he’s pretty sure his energy is 90% caffeine by this point. Fighting the urge to close his eyes, he begins copying some passage down from some textbook. When he stands up to stretch and grab another drink, he notices that the answering machine on his phone is blinking.

It’s the hospital, and they said Chiaki needs to get there as soon as possible.

He doesn’t call back to ask what that means. Grabbing his nearly dead cellphone, a slightly suspicious granola bar and two more drinks, he stumbles out into the early March rain. It’s cold and humid, a gross combination that makes him shudder a little. He’s always preferred warmer weather, definitely.

He’s driving down the interstate, as fast as he can without his tiny, crappy car falling apart or sliding in the rain, when he hears a car horn blaring at him. Looking up, Chiaki realizes that he’s drifted over a lane or two-did he fall asleep behind the wheel. His eyes search desperately for a sign, for somewhere that says where he is, and eventually he starts seeing the signs for the hospital where Midori’s been for the past 14 months. Excited, he forgets about the state of the roads, and his car, and floors the gas pedal, sending his car spiraling off of the highway and down to the muddy ground below.

For a brief moment, Chiaki feels as if he’s floating. He’s standing next to Midori, Midori, who he hasn’t seen in so long. His eyes are open, a rare, warm smile on his face, and Chiaki feels himself flush just looking at the boy. He takes a step forward, but Midori moves back, almost as if being pushed by an invisible force.

The brunette takes another step, then another, and another, his strides growing longer and quicker. He can almost feel Midori’s warmth against him, he’s so close-and then the boy is another five feet ahead the smile on his face saddening as he looks down at the ground. Chiaki’s running even harder now, the surroundings around him becoming more and more a white abstract than anything he’s ever seen in his life before. It’s blinding, it’s unfamiliar, and it’s terrifying, but it’s where Midori is, and Chiaki will give just about anything to be there right now.

Suddenly, Midori looks up. He’s wearing that stupid, calm expression, holding a bottle in his hand. Chiaki is moving faster than he ever has before, his legs beyond burning as he runs for Midori, his arms outstretched. His voice isn’t working, he can’t breathe enough to even try to speak, but he knows that if he can just knock away that bottle, everything will be okay. 

Closing his eyes, Midori brings a closed fist to his mouth.

Closing his eyes, Chiaki gathers all of the strength he has and jumps towards the only person he wants to see.

Chiaki snaps awake, sitting up, only to feel a pain like no other across his forehead. A large hand gently pushed him back down, the brunette’s vision filled with stars as he tries to catch his breath. He feels like he’s just run a marathon, but he know’s that he was just driving, before...oh god. He crashed. He crashed his fucking car, he’s absolutely done for now.

“Morisawa, please relax. You’re going to send your body into overdrive if you don’t.” Chiaki shakes his head no, sitting up despite the searing pain in his head. He can almost feel blood running across his skin, but he knows that it’s his imagine-the bandages across his forehead are far too tight for that to be happening.

“Midori-what happened to Midori?!” He looks up, eyes wide and pleading. The doctor sighs, pushing Midori back down.

“Worry about yourself, Morisawa. You need to recover, and then we will allow you to see Morisawa.”

“He’s alive?!”

“So far, yes.” Chiaki breathes out a sigh of relief. Sure, he’s kind of been alive these past 14 months, but the call Chiaki had gotten made him feel as if Midori had finally succumbed to the circumstances.

The next morning, some of his college friends, along with the rest of the former Ryuseitai unit, come to visit Chiaki. He’s incredibly glad to see them but a little bit confused. How did they know he was here?

Turns out the accident was a pretty big deal. On his way down, Chiaki had pushed two other cars off of the ramp, resulting in the deaths of two other people. That fact made him sick with guilt, but lately, death had just seemed to hang over him like a dark, looming cloud that just wouldn’t form rain and exert itself into nothingness.

“You must have been ‘blessed’ by Midori.” Kanata says, looking out of the window. From his spot in the hospital bed, Chiaki can see a large courtyard, complete with a beautiful stone fountain,. Oh no. He wishes the rest of Ryuseitai the best when it comes to keeping Kanata out of that fountain.

The talk with his friends is fairly similar-they’re glad he’s ok, he’s really lucky to be alive. Chiaki nods absentmindedly at the words, knowing that he hasn’t told his friends anything about the situation with Midori. It wasn’t a burden he wanted to share with other people especially because Chiaki still felt a little bit of personal responsibility for what was happening.

When his friends left, Chiaki willed himself back to sleep. He was going to get better, no matter what.

Three days later, the doctors declared him well enough to see Midori. He still had to keep the bandages on his head, along with a cast on his left and and the lower half of his left leg, meaning he had to be pushed to the ICU in a wheelchair, but at least he was able to move. Admittedly, he did feel a little dizzy when he was sitting up straight like that, but that was probably just his nerves.

Upon entering Midori’s room, Chiaki felt his heart sink. Midori was still unconscious, even after all of this time. The beeping of the machinery in the room was steady, steadier than Chiaki had heard it in a very long time, and there seemed to be ledd things hooked up to Midori, but he was still unconscious.

Just like before, Chiaki found himself at the side of Midori’s bed, looking at that calm expression. Was it just him, or did it seem a little bit...different? He wasn’t quite sure. Maybe he was just having a little trouble remembering things-he was in a car accident where he hurt his head, after all. Hoping that he hadn’t forgotten anything too important, Chiaki assumed his usual position during hospital visits, only slightly modified by the presence of the wheelchair.

He held Midori’s hand, which had a comforting warmth to it, in between his own, trying to keep his breathing steady as his heart pounded. With school and work, Chiaki hadn’t seen Midori’s face in almost four months, and he felt as giddy as a schoolgirl looking down at that face, despite the circumstances.

A wave of fatigue hit the brunette strong and suddenly, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavy beyond belief and becoming a chore to keep open. Leaning his head down on the bed put a bit of a strain on his back, which he pulled or something during the crash, but he can hear Midori’s breathin if he does it and that’s more than enough reason for him to tolerate the pain. For once, the silence is comfortable, breathable, and maybe it’s his exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that Midori seems to be more stable than the last time Chiaki saw him, but he actually enjoys the quiet, as long as it lasts.

He knew the silence would be broken. Silence is like rules-it’s made to be broken. However, he didn’t expect this to happen.

“Asleep already, hero?”

Chiaki’s head snaps up painfully fast, and he turns to see Midori, facing him, smiling at him, his eyes open, alive. Chiaki shakes his head, sure it’s an illusion before he remembers that one of Midori’s hands is in his and this is real, Midori is alive, he’s back he’s going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.

As best as he can with numerous injuries, Chiaki throws himself onto Midori’s hospital bed, his arms wrapping around the younger boy like a little kid with their favorite teddy bear. Midori is equally surprised and unsurprised when he realizes that Chiaki’s crying all over him, and it’s not long before the younger boy joins in as well.

“How long have you been awake?” Chiaki asks, and suddenly he realizes that that’s what the phone call may have been about.

“Three...or four days? I can’t really remember, my head’s a bit fuzzy. But, they’re moving me out of ICU by tomorrow at the latest.” Midori runs a hand through his hair, nearly getting an IV cord stuck in it, and for whatever reason, that triggers Chiaki to blurt out the word’s he’s been trapped with for the past 14 months.

“Thank god you’re back. I love you, you know?”

Midori’s body is long than his, but Chiaki manages to reach his junior’s forehead enough to kiss it gently. Below him, Midori is laughing and crying at the same time, and Chiaki almost yells because if there’s one thing he never wants to see again, it’s Midori crying, or in any sort of pain. He know that Midori will probably still have depression after this, unfortunately, comas do not cure depression, but Chiaki swears on his life that he’s going to do everything he can to lessen that burden.

“You know, I love you too.” Midori smile, a genuine smile, the kind to melt the heart of any superhero, especially the one named Morisawa Chiaki. He truly feels like he’s lived up to the hero title now-it took him 14 months, but he’s finally earned it, right? He’s about to comment on it before he yawns loudly instead, remembering his sleepiness and opting to curl up against Midori.

“Really? You’re just going to sleep like that?” Midori complains, a hand running over Chiaki’s hair, lightly. Chiaki nods, looking up at Midori with one red eye half open, drooping with sleep.

“You’ve slept for 14 months. I think you can sleep a little more for me, right?” Midori laughs despite the pang that the words bring him, and he lies down on his side, facing Chiaki. He leans in to quickly press his lips against Chiaki’s, something that he’s probably only doing because all of this medicine is making him feel just a little bit invincible.

“Whatever you say, hero.”

Chiaki manages a sleepy giggle at the use of the nickname, smiling slightly. He keeps his arms around Midori tightly, and even though he’s sure the doctors are going pretty angry after this, he doesn’t bother to move. He knows after this, it’s going to be rough. They’ve both got work to do-in school, finances, and especially emotionally, but for now, all Chiaki wants to think about is Midori.

He’s back, and this time, Chiaki isn’t letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW THAT WAS A CLICHE ENDING BUT I COULDNT HELP IT IM ALREADY WRITING A DANGARONPA AU IM DONE WITH PAIN 
> 
>  
> 
> also hmu on twitter! @squirrellissa


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